Mother Lode: Turning 50 can really be a pain in the rear

You start getting mail from AARP. Your left hip starts hurting for no apparent reason. You notice the veins in your hands look like small earthworms.

And, yes, it's time for the dreaded colonoscopy.

When my doctor mentioned this to me, I curled my lip. "I know, I know," he said, consolingly. "I did it, and it's not fun, but it's really important. Just schedule it!"

I wasn't really protesting. My father had a huge cancerous polyp in his colon that resulted in a complete colostomy. I'm not taking any chances.

What worried me most, however, is I had just taken one of my best friends to get her colonoscopy. And to be honest, it wasn't the best experience.

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The procedure was scheduled really early in the morning. I picked her up, and let's face it, she looked like hell. She described being up all night, and from what she described, it wasn't pleasant. We drove to the center where she was having the procedure, and I hesitated as I parked the car.

"Is this really the place?" I asked.

It was a strange building, and the door we were to go in was not well marked and was dim looking. We sat down in a tiny, empty waiting room. After about 10 minutes, a nurse came to take her back. She asked me if I was the one providing transportation, and I said yes.

"I am going to run and go get some coffee, and then I will be right back," I said.

"You can't leave," the nurse said in an indignant tone.

"Look, I will be gone 10 minutes, 15 tops," I said.

"You are not supposed to leave. You have to be ready to take her the minute we are done," she said.

Geez. Ok. I won't leave. (Believe me, an hour and 15 minutes later when I was still sitting in that waiting room with no coffee in me, I was plotting the demise of said nurse.)

Finally, the nurse came to take me back to the room where my friend was recovering. She looked like she was sleeping peacefully in a Barcalounger. The nurse left, and my friend began to stir and open her eyes. As she woke up she looked at me and mumbled, groggily, "Man, I feel violated."

I chuckled, but didn't think much of it. My husband had this procedure, and he was asleep the whole time. He didn't remember a thing. But a few minutes later, my friend stirred again and said the same thing again.

I leaned forward and we locked eyes. "Were you awake during your procedure?" I asked.

"I remember everything," she said. "I couldn't move but I knew everything that was going on."

I was shocked. That was not the way I intended to go through my test. As she started to come around more, she kept talking about being aware of what was going on. But the way she was talking in her semi-sedated state, saying things like, "Geez, buy a girl a drink first," we both started laughing. And we couldn't stop. The nurse came back in and gave us a strange look. "Everything OK in here?" she asked.

We couldn't even talk anymore through the laughter. They finally let us go, and I escorted my friend to the car. Despite turning the uncomfortable situation into a laugh-fest, I was concerned. Obviously, whatever sedation this place used didn't work so well. My friend was fine, but I certainly didn't want that to happen to me.

So, when it came for my turn, I went to a completely different doctor. He does his procedures in a hospital. Better already, I told myself.

I am not going to lie. Having a colonoscopy isn't a pleasant experience. The preparation is really uncomfortable.

But I am here to tell you, the hospital, staff and doctor were wonderful. They didn't make my husband and daughter hang out while I had the procedure. They let me call them to come get me when I was done. They were on time, kind and professional.

And the last thing I remember hearing in the procedure room was, "We are going to start some medicine now, Theresa." The next I heard was, "Can you wake up, Theresa?" I didn't remember a thing.

Best, though, I got a clean bill of health. I don't have to have another test for 10 years.

So, bottom line is, take care of yourself and get your colonoscopy. But I do recommend doing it in a hospital, like I did. It's not something I care to do, but I don't care to remember.

— Theresa Myers is the director of communications for Greeley-Evans School District 6 and lives in Greeley with her husband and two teenage daughters. She can be reached at myersfreelance@msn.com.